


wasted years, wasted youth (pretty lies and ugly truths)

by stars_aligning



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Exhaustion, Fever, Headaches & Migraines, Homework, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker has PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Peter Parker, Sleepy Peter Parker, Tired Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Not a Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_aligning/pseuds/stars_aligning
Summary: "Tony shook his head, but stayed where he was. He was pretty sure he was taking longer than five minutes, but how the hell could he think when Peter wasn’t telling him stuff like this? He was his mentor, he was hisdadpractically, and it was his job to take care of him. How could he do that when he didn’t have all of the information necessary?"(Or, Tony finds out Peter's keeping a secret. Again.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 257
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	wasted years, wasted youth (pretty lies and ugly truths)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperHeroTiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperHeroTiger/gifts).



> Hello everyone! This is a fic I've written for the Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange, and it is dedicated to superherotiger. I have to admit, I don't know them that well, but what with what they post and how they respond to my awkward anon messages, I can say that they're a really great person, and an amazing writer and artist! Superherotiger, I hope you have a great day today!
> 
> And I really hope you like this story. A lot. I really hope you like it a lot.
> 
> The timeline isn't specified in this fic, but I like to think it takes place after FFH (to add more trauma to Peter!) and that Tony survived Endgame by sharing the power of the gauntlet with the other Avengers. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> (Editing credits go to @jelly_pies and @galactic-sam on Tumblr, and art credits (the art will be posted soon!) go to @sketchibilitea on Tumblr!! Check out their profiles, they’re really neat people!)

“Peter?” Tony asked, as he knocked on the kid’s bedroom door. It’s around 10pm, and the two had arrived at the tower hours ago, since Peter was staying with him while May was away. But, even though Peter was staying with him for the entire week, he’d barely seen him for more than ten minutes, before he excused himself up to his room with a flimsy excuse of “having too much homework.” Even if he had, though, Tony, being a genius and all with an IQ of 270, could’ve helped him with it, so here he was, wondering what was up. “Kid, you still in there?”

This time, he received a response. “Mhm.”

“Can I come in?”

Peter shrugged, and Tony heard him shoot a web at the door to unlock it. “If you want,” he replied.

Happy that they were making progress, Tony turned the door handle and walked in, but frowned as soon as he did. The room was almost pitch black, but instead of seeing the kid sprawled across his bed, Peter was at his desk. Slumped over in his chair, with his head resting on his hands, Tony almost couldn’t see the eye bags and sweat glistening on his forehead. Luckily, though, the laptop helped with that, and the dim light shining from it was still bright enough to see him in.

Flipping the light on, Tony winced as soon as Peter buried his head deeper into his arms, and took the liberty of asking Friday to set them to his sensory-overload settings. Once that was done, he then pulled out a chair from across the room and sat on it backwards, with his arms resting across the back, and his legs sticking out the sides. “So, what’cha working on here?” he asked, casually. “Some little science project or something?”

Peter was still half-asleep, but opened his eyes as soon as his mentor sat down beside him. “English essay,” he corrected, as he passed the paper over. “Supposed to write about the meaning of love in _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_. Something about a rose? I don’t know.”

Tony hummed lightly, and flipped through the small packet of pages. Each page had a recap on each scene and act, and for a split second he wondered how this was the same kid who could keep up with him in a lab so long. But then Tony remembered doing the same stupid shit when he was a kid, and if it’s still half as bad, then Peter deserves so much sympathy. “Did you try texting Ted and MJ?” he mused.

“It’s _Ned_ and MJ, Mr. Stark.”

“Ted, Ned, same thing—“

“Ted’s the name of a serial killer.”

“ _Peter_ ,” Tony stressed, before repeating his earlier question. “What about Ned and MJ? Did you text them, maybe see if they can help?”

“Thought about it,” the superhero stated, his eyes starting to flutter shut. “But didn’t wanna—“ Stifling a yawn, Peter shifted in his seat, before he continued. “But I didn’t wanna bother them, Mr. Stark. They have a lot of work to do, too.”

“What ‘bout Pepper?” Tony questioned. “I know it’s late and all, but I’m pretty sure she’d be up to helping you, kiddo. It’s like, five o’clock in Hawaii, and I know she doesn’t have another meeting until six or seven.”

“Nuh-uh,” Peter said, as he shook his head. Letting out a yawn, he had then sat up, before tugging the laptop forward and opening up the closed window of an empty Microsoft Word document. “S’okay, Mr. Stark. I’ll just stay up tonight and work on it. S’not a big deal.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. If it was possible, he looked even more concerned than before. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” he asked. He knew how often he pulled all-nighters, and didn’t want the kid to pick up on his bad habits.

Peter nodded, but was already refocusing on the muted light of the MacBook. “Yeah,” he explained, “and that’s when it’s due. Would’ve done it earlier, but I was busy with other stuff.”

“Like patrolling other stuff?”

“Like trying to sleep other stuff,” Peter clarified. When he saw the look Tony was giving him, though, he hastily continued. “But only ‘cause I had a headache! Ned thinks it’s from that concussion I got a few weeks ago on patrol, but MJ thinks it’s from the stress and everything. Have to say, I think she’s more right than he is.”

Tony sat there for a moment, pretending he was still flipping through the packet of pages, and thought. He knew Peter needed to get his homework done, but he also didn’t want him staying up all night in order to do it; and May would be pissed at him if she found he did. Finally, he spoke.

“Kid,” he said, “if you have a headache, you should take break,” and Peter was instantly reminded of when he was having lunch with Ned and MJ that day. He’d been stressing about his essay then, too, and she had said something eerily similar. “You’re not gonna get any work done if you’re sick and tired; you know that. Take a break, go to bed, and come back to it later. It’ll still be there when you wake up.”

“But I have to finish it!” Peter protested, as he tore his gaze away from the computer to plead with his mentor. “This is for my first class tomorrow, Mr. Stark, and I’ve been taking breaks all week. I’m already on thin ice, I can’t risk getting any grade lower than a B. _Please_.”

Tony sighed, and stood up from his chair, having finally came up with a plan. “Wait here,” he responded, as he waved his pointer finger at Peter. “I’ll be back in five minutes, kid.”

—

“Fri, how high is Peter’s fever?” Tony asked, two minutes later, as he took a glass out from the cupboard and shoved it under the faucet. Turning the handle for cold water on, he watched as the liquid began to fill the glass, and stopped it when it reached the half-way mark. “And give me stats on how much he’s been sleeping lately, too, will ya?”

Twisting open the bottle of Melatonin, he tapped out two tablets into a cup and placed it on a tray, right beside the water. It took Friday a while to gather a response, but within a few seconds, she had her answer ready.

“Mr. Parker’s fever is at a steady 101.5. For the past few days, it’s been between 99.5 degrees to 100.3, but it has risen significantly in the last few hours. As for how much sleep Mr. Parker has been getting, I’ve calculated that he’s been getting between two to four hours a night.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, though Friday couldn’t actually see it. “From homework?” he asked. He knew Peter struggled in English, but he had offered help more times than he could count. Peter should’ve known that by now.

“From nightmares,” Friday advised. “But I have been conversing with his AI, Karen, and she has told me that homework plays a part in it, too.”

Tony leaned forward on the counter, and placed his head in his hands. “Shit,” he whispered. “Fuck, why doesn’t he tell me this stuff?”

Friday hummed lightly and when she spoke, she sounded as comforting as an AI could. “I don’t know, sir,” she answered, at last. “Would you like me to summon Mr. Parker, so you can confront him about it? Multiple studies show—"

“No.” Tony shook his head, but stayed where he was. He was pretty sure he was taking longer than five minutes, but how the hell could he think when Peter wasn’t telling him stuff like this? He was his mentor, he was his _dad_ practically, and it was his job to take care of him. How could he do that when he didn’t have all of the information necessary?

“Should I call Ms. Potts then?” Friday recommended. “She has an excellent background of working with children, and multiple studies show—"

“No!” Tony ran his hands through his hair, his voice a bit louder this time around. “Just… stop with the studies, Fri, and don’t call Pepper or Peter. Pepper’s at a meeting in Hawaii, and Peter already has enough on his plate to deal with; the last thing he needs is me confronting him _now_ about this shit.”

Friday sounded hesitant. “Who should I call, then?” she questioned, putting stress on the first word.

“No one,” Tony spoke. “Just… send Pep a text, tell her I have something to talk to her about, but it’s not important and I’ll call her tomorrow. And let me know if Peter’s allergic to anything in this.” He gave the bottle of Melatonin a shake. “The last thing he needs is an allergic reaction, or an overdose and then he has to get his stomach pumped.”

—

“Alright,” Tony announced, as he walked back into Peter’s room. Pushing the MacBook a few feet away, he had then placed the tray on the desk, and tapped on the glass twice. “You’re gonna take this, you’re gonna write one sentence, and then you’re gonna go to bed. I’m not gonna let you stay up all night, and you shouldn’t be doing it anyway, either.”

Peter narrowed his eyes and stared at the cup of tablets, skeptically, like he was trying to figure out if they were gonna murder him externally, or wait till they were inside his body to do so. “And what is this?” he asked.

“Melatonin,” Tony stated. In response, Peter immediately shot him a look of confusion, and he simplified it. “It’s the chemical that makes your brain tired; you take it, you fall asleep. Easy peasy.”

“But Tonyyy, my essay. I have to finish it.”

“Your essay will still be here in the morning. I’ll even let you skip so that you can finish it. Just go to bed, kid.”

“M’kay.” Peter nodded and dropped the pills into his mouth, before washing it down with a swig of water. Then, pulling his MacBook a bit closer, he had typed out a quick sentence on to his Word document, before he gently sealed it shut and let it power down. “There,” he said, tiredly. “Done.”

“Good.” Pushing the tray a few feet away, Tony had then kneeled in front of the boy, and ran a hand through his curls as he let him flop on to him. “You know that I love you, bud. I just want what’s best for you, ya know.”

Peter just buried his head into Tony’s shoulder, as sleep began to creep up on him. “Yeah, Dad,” he replied. “I know.”

Immediately, Tony froze. Him and Peter had gotten close ever since the Vulture, with Tony inviting him over, and Peter filling him in on his reports for patrol, and he knew he was pretty much the kid’s dad already, but to know that Peter actually thought of him that way? Well, that was absolutely terrifying.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

Deciding that was a problem he could deal with tomorrow, Tony held back a yawn himself, and softly kissed Peter’s forehead. “Night, kid,” he said, before standing up and hearing his bones crackle, snap, and pop. “Love you.”

When Tony was at the door, Peter’s head was already back and resting on his desk. “Night, Mr. Stark,” he muttered. “Love you, too.”

_‘And, hey,’_ Tony thought to himself, _‘if the kid already thinks of me as his dad, then maybe actually being it wouldn’t be so bad.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Hang out with me on Tumblr if y'all want! I'm open to requests, and I'm @[clover-roseee](https://clover-roseee.tumblr.com)!


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